In Dreams Begin Responsibilities...
Aug. 25th, 2007 11:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shadowkat[As an aside: The problem with typing anything on my lj is no matter what I do, I see typos and grammatical errors...the potential for human error? At least 20% in any given situation. Possibly much higher. No matter how much we try - we can't be perfect. So why do we try, one wonders.]
It's all a question of imagination. Our responsibility begins with the power to imagine. It's just like Yeats said: In dreams begin responsibilities. Flip this around and you could say that where there's no power to imagine. No responsibility can arise.
Quoted from Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami, in a translation by Philip Gabriel.
The quote comes after a passage in which the protagonist, a 15 year old Japanese boy, is contemplating a book on the War Crimes Trial of Eichmann - who was one of the techinicians ordered by Hitler to find a quick and relatively inexpensive method of exterminating over 6 million people (mainly Jews).
But in a larger context - the quote explains a lot. I have to admit that I don't understand the inability to imagine. Because I must have born with it. It is second nature to me. For me it is akin to breathing. Yet, I've met people who don't use their imaginations. Or can't imagine. They can't see the world outside of what they've been told or taught or lectured/overheard. One of my problems with our educational system is so much of it is based on a teacher standing in front of a class and telling them what to think. They lecture for two hours or one hour or three. You take notes. You get an A based on how well you took notes on and understood the lecture. If you were a parrot you'd do very well. (Hmmm, wonder if they've ever run on experiments on that? Probably not, since parrots can't write or fill in those little computerized circles.) A mimic would do quite well too. And they call this teaching? (I want to scream) I call it lecturing. Not quite the same thing. The better teachers and better classes I've had, and they were few and far between, had teachers that liked to discuss things. The classes were smaller. The teacher rarely lectured. Instead the class was spent on discussing the topic, often debating it. The answers? We had none. And the test? It was essay not multiple choice and graded on how well we formed and backed up our argument, our reasoning skills not rote memorization. They wanted to know how we thought and what we thought about something. Research papers would be assigned in lieu of a final "multiple" choice examination. I learned more in those courses and felt that those teachers earned their salaries. I don't remember much from the ones that just required me to sit and listen then take test afterwards. I remember discussing with other law students - how much better law school would have been if they stopped the "lecture/test" courses and focused on getting us apprenticeships or doing legal clinics and writing seminars, having us do the work as opposed to listen to someone lecture to us about it.
Yet, I have to take a step back and remove the huge chip from my shoulder for a moment - while it is fun to blame the educational system, it is not necessarily accurate - there are courses that require rote memorization and require multiple choice tests - math and science being amongst them. And imagination isn't something that is necessarily taught. It may be innate or it may be formed over time? I don't know. I imagine it must be. Could have a lot to do with environment. My parents encouraged it in my brother and I - our family dynamic was more flexible than many of my friends. My parents bought us paper and pencils and crayons, not coloring books. They did not permit us to watch tv at certain times and if it was nice outside? We were forced to go outside and entertain ourselves. They didn't buy us expensive gadgets. And we spent a lot of time reading and being read to, or in lieu of books, my father told me stories, which I later repeated to my younger brother. I look at my friends - who have kids and my brother who does. My friends place their children in front the television and go on about the top rated kids shows - Spongebob, DoddleBops, Sesame Street, etc...while my niece who is only about five months older if that, has never heard of them - instead she makes up stories, draws for hours on end, and sleeps with her books when she isn't being read to, or sounding the words out on her own. And I wonder - if that has something to do with it? Maybe not. I have no children of my own and no clue what I would do with one.
Elsewhere in the book, Kafka on the Shore, the protagonist, Kafka, comments on how passive people are...that making decisions on one's own is hard, and it is easier for someone to tell you what to do. He's discussing a Franz Kafka short story he's read - called The Miner and how it is different from other Franz Kafka stories he's read in that the hero is totally passive. But, he says, "I think in real life people are like that. It's not so easy to make choices on your own."
Is it really that simple? We like to be told what to think, what to do, how to act, what to wear, who to love, who to hate, and given guidelines on all of the above? The friend who recommended this book to me, told me that she wanted to be a baby again, to be taken care of, to not have to make any more decisions or worry about taking care of herself. That's all she and I have to worry about, being single, is ourselves, and we worry that in of itself makes us...well not good people or overly selfish.
I think it may be. Eichman was just one of Hitler's employees, little more than a goon or robot doing his master's will. Sitting in court in Tel Aviv, behind bullet proof glass, Eichmann looked like he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was being tried, or why the eyes of the world were upon him. He was just a technician, he insisted, who'd found the most efficient solution to the problem assigned him. Wasn't he doing just what any good bureaucrat would do? So why was he being singled out and accused?
Then I read ...Time Out New York:The Race Issue this week - scanned it really, one does not really read Time Out. What caught my attention was a section entitled Does Race Matter? - We asked New Yorkers of all ages and ethnicities. Turns out we can't all just get along. Now, New York may well be the most racially diverse city on the planet, with 12 million, and just about every language, ethnicity, and race accounted for. So, you'd think it would be a little less racist than everywhere else? Not so much. Just different.
Here's a few snippets.Actually I've decided to make a game - play around with people's assumptions. Match the person to the quote (Oh frigging heck - I thought I'd deleted that last line, I shudder to think of some of the snarky responses I got regarding that. Sorry.):
1. Ailene, 30 years of age, "Pacific Islander"
A black President? I fee the same way about a woman president. If they're just as qualified, if our country's ready, that's the point. But I don't think we're ready. That's why I'm like, God, can we get a white male Democrat so we can have a Democrat in office?
2. Frank,32 - Ice Cream Man, Long Island, Italian-American
A black President? I'm not being racist about it, but we need a white guy. Why? Because, yo, they seem to know how to get the job done. I mean, look at Newark - Iraq got more sense than Newark.
3. Karen, 50, Accessories salesperson, East Harlem "Black American"
Race matters because of all the social-economic issues that are going on in the city. I have to buy from Koreans, Koreans have to rent from Jews, Jews are charging crazy rent, and the Koreans are charging crazy prices -so my profit goes down!
4. John, 52, Unemployed, Elizabeth, NJ -"Caucasion"
To me, at age 52, I've learned over the years that race is less and less significant. But the n-word is disgusting. I despise it completely. I see kids today on the subway and they use it to identify with one another, and the word - it's just beneath even the worst person on this earth.
5. Theresa, 41, Teacher, East Elmhurst Queens. "Human"
To me, race doesn't matter. But it does to most people. My landlord asked me to move out, saying that the people I bring home 'bring down the neighborhood.' I bring one person hom - my boyfriend - he's African-American. My name is a Hispanic name, but I look white. When we walk down the street, the white men give him dirty looks, and the black women give me dirty looks. It's upsetting.
6. Alina, 32, Medical Assistant, Bronx - Black
Yes, it's the elephant in the room, still, when it comes to black and white. It's said that race doesn't matter, but it does. Light-skinned blacks have more opportunities than dark-skinned blacks, Puerto Ricans think that they're better than Mexicans. Race does matter. Whether you're a good Muslim or a bad Muslim, you're going to be perceived as threat.
7. Alaina, 27, Insurance Agent, Brooklyn, "Black"
I can pass for multiple things. I have black, white and Native American blood. When I was at school in Florida, I got called a nigger. And when I went to school here, where the majority was black, I got called a cracker. So I experienced both, on both sides. So yeah, racism still exists. And honestly, if I was sitting next to an Arab on a plane, I would be nervous. I hate to say it, but I would.
8. Sarah, 21, Personal assistant, Midtown East, "I don't put myself in a category"
I'm from Sweden, and people's opinons have changed since 9/11; people are more afraid. You're influenced by everything you hear. I try not to, but of course you do, even when you think you don't."
At work, I'm more and more aware of the racial divide. We have a racially diverse workplace, but the people in power are white, male, and mainly Jewish. The top echelon? All white, male, and Jewish. (Which makes sense considering it's a company run by Israelis). My father's workplace was the same way. In fact, there was a joke they told around his workplace - "If you want to become partner - you might want to convert to Judaism." We went around the room this week to count languages - 22 languages for about 15 people. When I climb into the elevator to go home - I see it there as well - the power divide. White, male.
One of my work colleagues from India and Sikh - he wears turbans, as a means of showing his respect to God. The turbans are quite lovely by the way - he has purple, blue, turquoise, green, brown, beige, red, and black that I've seen so far. He's more fashion conscious than I am (which come to think of it, isn't that hard.) At any rate, when we'd gone to a company party at a local bar two weeks ago - a white guy and a black guy sitting at the bar, looked at my colleague and said - "Here comes the Taliban." T (who is black) and a good friend of my colleague's turned around to these two men and gave them the death glare. Stating, they should know better. And not make abrupt assumptions. T said you should be interested in people, ask them about their culture, engage. Tolerate. And try to understand.
So maybe, I think, it is as simple as that - passivity? It's easier to just judge someone based on what they look like. And we all do want to blend in to some degree. Not be poked fun at. Not have to deal with too much grief. Why else do so many women wear the same flip flops? They can't be that comfortable. To have someone else tell you what to do. Or who to like?
Or then again, maybe it's just a lack of imagination...the inability to imagine or dream what it would be like to be black or white or Indian or Jewish or Catholic or an ethicinity or culture other than our own? The inability to envision what it would feel like to have no food. To be shot at. To journey to the moon. To be a guy or a woman. As a writer - I do it all the time, it's the fun part of writing, to imagine myself as someone else. What it feels like to be short for example instead of tall - the protagonist of my novel is 5'3 for example. To imagine what it is like to be a down on his luck male actor whose become a detective. Or to imagine being a cat.
If you can't imagine...then you can't feel empathy or sympathy for someone else? Dreams tell us so much of what we fear, who we want to be, and what we love or hate. Without dreams - can we imagine? Did Eichmann dream? Makes me re-think that Philip K. Dick novel, in which the cult classic BladeRunner was based, do Androids Dream of Electronic Sheep. In that book as in the movie - it was dreams that made you human. The ability to dream. The ability to imagine. And it was Dekkar's ability to do so, that made him realize that the difference between himself and the Androids he was hunting down wasn't so defined.
He felt remorse - because he imagined what it was like for them and in the novel, that he could very well be one of them.
It's all a question of imagination. Our responsibility begins with the power to imagine. It's just like Yeats said: In dreams begin responsibilities. Flip this around and you could say that where there's no power to imagine. No responsibility can arise.
Quoted from Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami, in a translation by Philip Gabriel.
The quote comes after a passage in which the protagonist, a 15 year old Japanese boy, is contemplating a book on the War Crimes Trial of Eichmann - who was one of the techinicians ordered by Hitler to find a quick and relatively inexpensive method of exterminating over 6 million people (mainly Jews).
But in a larger context - the quote explains a lot. I have to admit that I don't understand the inability to imagine. Because I must have born with it. It is second nature to me. For me it is akin to breathing. Yet, I've met people who don't use their imaginations. Or can't imagine. They can't see the world outside of what they've been told or taught or lectured/overheard. One of my problems with our educational system is so much of it is based on a teacher standing in front of a class and telling them what to think. They lecture for two hours or one hour or three. You take notes. You get an A based on how well you took notes on and understood the lecture. If you were a parrot you'd do very well. (Hmmm, wonder if they've ever run on experiments on that? Probably not, since parrots can't write or fill in those little computerized circles.) A mimic would do quite well too. And they call this teaching? (I want to scream) I call it lecturing. Not quite the same thing. The better teachers and better classes I've had, and they were few and far between, had teachers that liked to discuss things. The classes were smaller. The teacher rarely lectured. Instead the class was spent on discussing the topic, often debating it. The answers? We had none. And the test? It was essay not multiple choice and graded on how well we formed and backed up our argument, our reasoning skills not rote memorization. They wanted to know how we thought and what we thought about something. Research papers would be assigned in lieu of a final "multiple" choice examination. I learned more in those courses and felt that those teachers earned their salaries. I don't remember much from the ones that just required me to sit and listen then take test afterwards. I remember discussing with other law students - how much better law school would have been if they stopped the "lecture/test" courses and focused on getting us apprenticeships or doing legal clinics and writing seminars, having us do the work as opposed to listen to someone lecture to us about it.
Yet, I have to take a step back and remove the huge chip from my shoulder for a moment - while it is fun to blame the educational system, it is not necessarily accurate - there are courses that require rote memorization and require multiple choice tests - math and science being amongst them. And imagination isn't something that is necessarily taught. It may be innate or it may be formed over time? I don't know. I imagine it must be. Could have a lot to do with environment. My parents encouraged it in my brother and I - our family dynamic was more flexible than many of my friends. My parents bought us paper and pencils and crayons, not coloring books. They did not permit us to watch tv at certain times and if it was nice outside? We were forced to go outside and entertain ourselves. They didn't buy us expensive gadgets. And we spent a lot of time reading and being read to, or in lieu of books, my father told me stories, which I later repeated to my younger brother. I look at my friends - who have kids and my brother who does. My friends place their children in front the television and go on about the top rated kids shows - Spongebob, DoddleBops, Sesame Street, etc...while my niece who is only about five months older if that, has never heard of them - instead she makes up stories, draws for hours on end, and sleeps with her books when she isn't being read to, or sounding the words out on her own. And I wonder - if that has something to do with it? Maybe not. I have no children of my own and no clue what I would do with one.
Elsewhere in the book, Kafka on the Shore, the protagonist, Kafka, comments on how passive people are...that making decisions on one's own is hard, and it is easier for someone to tell you what to do. He's discussing a Franz Kafka short story he's read - called The Miner and how it is different from other Franz Kafka stories he's read in that the hero is totally passive. But, he says, "I think in real life people are like that. It's not so easy to make choices on your own."
Is it really that simple? We like to be told what to think, what to do, how to act, what to wear, who to love, who to hate, and given guidelines on all of the above? The friend who recommended this book to me, told me that she wanted to be a baby again, to be taken care of, to not have to make any more decisions or worry about taking care of herself. That's all she and I have to worry about, being single, is ourselves, and we worry that in of itself makes us...well not good people or overly selfish.
I think it may be. Eichman was just one of Hitler's employees, little more than a goon or robot doing his master's will. Sitting in court in Tel Aviv, behind bullet proof glass, Eichmann looked like he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was being tried, or why the eyes of the world were upon him. He was just a technician, he insisted, who'd found the most efficient solution to the problem assigned him. Wasn't he doing just what any good bureaucrat would do? So why was he being singled out and accused?
Then I read ...Time Out New York:The Race Issue this week - scanned it really, one does not really read Time Out. What caught my attention was a section entitled Does Race Matter? - We asked New Yorkers of all ages and ethnicities. Turns out we can't all just get along. Now, New York may well be the most racially diverse city on the planet, with 12 million, and just about every language, ethnicity, and race accounted for. So, you'd think it would be a little less racist than everywhere else? Not so much. Just different.
Here's a few snippets.
1. Ailene, 30 years of age, "Pacific Islander"
A black President? I fee the same way about a woman president. If they're just as qualified, if our country's ready, that's the point. But I don't think we're ready. That's why I'm like, God, can we get a white male Democrat so we can have a Democrat in office?
2. Frank,32 - Ice Cream Man, Long Island, Italian-American
A black President? I'm not being racist about it, but we need a white guy. Why? Because, yo, they seem to know how to get the job done. I mean, look at Newark - Iraq got more sense than Newark.
3. Karen, 50, Accessories salesperson, East Harlem "Black American"
Race matters because of all the social-economic issues that are going on in the city. I have to buy from Koreans, Koreans have to rent from Jews, Jews are charging crazy rent, and the Koreans are charging crazy prices -so my profit goes down!
4. John, 52, Unemployed, Elizabeth, NJ -"Caucasion"
To me, at age 52, I've learned over the years that race is less and less significant. But the n-word is disgusting. I despise it completely. I see kids today on the subway and they use it to identify with one another, and the word - it's just beneath even the worst person on this earth.
5. Theresa, 41, Teacher, East Elmhurst Queens. "Human"
To me, race doesn't matter. But it does to most people. My landlord asked me to move out, saying that the people I bring home 'bring down the neighborhood.' I bring one person hom - my boyfriend - he's African-American. My name is a Hispanic name, but I look white. When we walk down the street, the white men give him dirty looks, and the black women give me dirty looks. It's upsetting.
6. Alina, 32, Medical Assistant, Bronx - Black
Yes, it's the elephant in the room, still, when it comes to black and white. It's said that race doesn't matter, but it does. Light-skinned blacks have more opportunities than dark-skinned blacks, Puerto Ricans think that they're better than Mexicans. Race does matter. Whether you're a good Muslim or a bad Muslim, you're going to be perceived as threat.
7. Alaina, 27, Insurance Agent, Brooklyn, "Black"
I can pass for multiple things. I have black, white and Native American blood. When I was at school in Florida, I got called a nigger. And when I went to school here, where the majority was black, I got called a cracker. So I experienced both, on both sides. So yeah, racism still exists. And honestly, if I was sitting next to an Arab on a plane, I would be nervous. I hate to say it, but I would.
8. Sarah, 21, Personal assistant, Midtown East, "I don't put myself in a category"
I'm from Sweden, and people's opinons have changed since 9/11; people are more afraid. You're influenced by everything you hear. I try not to, but of course you do, even when you think you don't."
At work, I'm more and more aware of the racial divide. We have a racially diverse workplace, but the people in power are white, male, and mainly Jewish. The top echelon? All white, male, and Jewish. (Which makes sense considering it's a company run by Israelis). My father's workplace was the same way. In fact, there was a joke they told around his workplace - "If you want to become partner - you might want to convert to Judaism." We went around the room this week to count languages - 22 languages for about 15 people. When I climb into the elevator to go home - I see it there as well - the power divide. White, male.
One of my work colleagues from India and Sikh - he wears turbans, as a means of showing his respect to God. The turbans are quite lovely by the way - he has purple, blue, turquoise, green, brown, beige, red, and black that I've seen so far. He's more fashion conscious than I am (which come to think of it, isn't that hard.) At any rate, when we'd gone to a company party at a local bar two weeks ago - a white guy and a black guy sitting at the bar, looked at my colleague and said - "Here comes the Taliban." T (who is black) and a good friend of my colleague's turned around to these two men and gave them the death glare. Stating, they should know better. And not make abrupt assumptions. T said you should be interested in people, ask them about their culture, engage. Tolerate. And try to understand.
So maybe, I think, it is as simple as that - passivity? It's easier to just judge someone based on what they look like. And we all do want to blend in to some degree. Not be poked fun at. Not have to deal with too much grief. Why else do so many women wear the same flip flops? They can't be that comfortable. To have someone else tell you what to do. Or who to like?
Or then again, maybe it's just a lack of imagination...the inability to imagine or dream what it would be like to be black or white or Indian or Jewish or Catholic or an ethicinity or culture other than our own? The inability to envision what it would feel like to have no food. To be shot at. To journey to the moon. To be a guy or a woman. As a writer - I do it all the time, it's the fun part of writing, to imagine myself as someone else. What it feels like to be short for example instead of tall - the protagonist of my novel is 5'3 for example. To imagine what it is like to be a down on his luck male actor whose become a detective. Or to imagine being a cat.
If you can't imagine...then you can't feel empathy or sympathy for someone else? Dreams tell us so much of what we fear, who we want to be, and what we love or hate. Without dreams - can we imagine? Did Eichmann dream? Makes me re-think that Philip K. Dick novel, in which the cult classic BladeRunner was based, do Androids Dream of Electronic Sheep. In that book as in the movie - it was dreams that made you human. The ability to dream. The ability to imagine. And it was Dekkar's ability to do so, that made him realize that the difference between himself and the Androids he was hunting down wasn't so defined.
He felt remorse - because he imagined what it was like for them and in the novel, that he could very well be one of them.
